A St. Patrick's day miracle.

So, I've been drinking coffee from the rooster (gas station) lately when the cafe is closed. I do a 3/4 west coast and 1/4 french vanilla mix with 3 creamers. It's a nasty little concoction but it must be done. So on S.t Patrick's day I waltz into the rooster, fill 3/4's with west coast pretending to be deep in thought and move my dainty paper cup under the french vanilla urn. I push the button only to find it empty. dry. not...pouring. What to do, what to do. I like my mix. It's what I do. It's who I am...sorry, i got carried away there. *sigh* I do what only what any sensible girl would do. Look at the options. regular coffee: nope. dark roast: nope. English toffee: nope. Irish cream: well it is St. Patrick's day... I'm disappointed at the thought of anything but the norm. I pay and leave after telling the cashier they are out of french vanilla as if she would care. I jump into the truck and take a mindless sip. Do my taste buds deceive me? This is amazing! It's tasty and makes me want to yell TOP OF THE MORNIN' TO YA. I'm very pleased with my new discovery but take a moment to reflect on the situation. What if the rooster had never ran out of french vanilla? What if had never tried Irish Cream? Would I be happy never knowing and living my whole life vanilla style? Up until then it was all I knew and wanted. Was this a divine appointment and what if there is something better than Irish Cream? Most importantly what if this applies to more than just coffee? These are the days of my life.